Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
sinner
Her face had gone a sickly shade of green.
I had to get her off that damn stage before she puked in front of everyone. She had been staring at him for too long. The horror was bleeding from her violently.
She wouldn’t survive this. Not if I didn’t step in.
But as I took a step toward her, Director stopped me with an arm on my bicep.
One day, I would cut that hand off and wear it on a chain around my neck. I’d feed each one of those wretched fingers to the wolves—no, the pigs.
“Remember who owns you,” she sneered. “Remember that you two belong to the Ministry now. And that sister of yours? Don’t think we can’t hunt her down and kill her if you choose not to cooperate.”
I ripped my arm away and rushed toward Athena.
It was the next best thing to ripping Director’s head off in front of everyone here.
Don’t think we can’t hunt her down.
That meant Margaret was free. They didn’t have her. And if they knew where she was, she would be right here with us. They would use her to control us like they had in the dungeons.
Athena took a step toward the edge of the stage, but her legs gave out. I caught her before she could go down, steadying her. “Stand up,” I whispered. “Don’t show them any weakness.”
She braced herself on my body, her pulse thrumming wildly in her neck, her skin hot, her eyes wide and full of desolation.
She didn’t have to say a word. I was getting her out of here as fast as possible.
“This way.” I half dragged, half carried her away from the crowd, ignoring the repulsive chants and cries from the blood-hungry cadets around us. They loved her now—worshiped her. She was their god, had brought death to those they believed had harmed them.
But Athena didn’t see it that way.
She’d brought death to…to her friend.
I dragged her off the ship’s deck and down the dank, musty hallway inside. When the heavy steel door slammed behind us, Athena jumped, but I hauled her forward.
“Just hold it together for one more second.” I searched for a place where we’d be hidden from prying eyes and ears. “We’re almost there,” I assured her. Almost where? I had no fucking clue. Any empty room far from those pathetic bastards would be a good choice.
Toward the end of the long hallway and likely in the middle of the ship, we stumbled upon what looked like an unoccupied sleeping chamber. I kicked at the already ajar door and forced myself inside, dragging Athena in after me.
She gagged, her body lurching in my arms.
Thank god there was a fucking toilet.
I hustled her to it, and she barely made it to her knees before she vomited, the sound of her heaving echoing off the empty walls.
I darted back to the door and shut it, then turned the lock.
Then I was at her side again, pulling her damp hair away from her face and neck.
I twisted it and held it in place with one hand while she heaved again.
And again, emptying the contents of her stomach entirely before she flushed the toilet and sagged to the floor.
“You did the right thing,” I whispered.
God, she was a fucking mess. I’d seen her in rough shape before, but never like this.
Her face was pale and lifeless. Her eyes were open, but they were vacant, soulless.
For a second, it scared me. It scared me so much that I squatted in front of her and put a hand on her thigh, willing her back to life.
“Look at me,” I ordered, though it sounded more like a plea.
She gulped and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then those empty eyes drifted in my direction.
“Athena.” Voice cracking, I cupped her face.
“I killed Leon,” she whispered, devastation seeping from each word.
I brushed her clammy cheeks with my thumbs. “I know you did.”
“He—he was trying to help me. He was going to help us. And I—I—”
“Shh.” I pulled her crumpling body into my arms and held her.
She sobbed, and as I dragged her into my lap, she dug her face into my chest.
She cried and cried and cried. The sound gutted me. I’d have done anything to fix this. To take away her pain.
Hated that those fucking shields were stopping me from doing what I could to protect her.
She’d killed Leon—she’d killed her friend.
The pain she was experiencing was one I was familiar with.
She’d remember that moment for the rest of her life. It would haunt her nightmares. It would darken her happiest moments. She’d never again enjoy a moment without remembering that Leon would never have the same opportunity.
Eventually the sounds of her cries blended with the creaking ship.
Did Director know? Did she know Leon had been part of the defiance? That he had been trying to help us? Or did she simply want him gone?
He had been blindfolded. Was Athena ever supposed to learn his true identity?
She had settled down—either that, or she’d cried herself to exhaustion—but I didn’t let her go. I stroked her back while I cradled her, pretending for just a second that we could escape the horrors of our world.
It wouldn’t last long. We were living in hell, and the only way out was to defeat the damn devil himself.
I would have held her like that forever. Until my arms atrophied. Until our bodies turned to stone together.
I was a fucking romantic like that now, I guessed.
But our time together was broken when cautious footsteps approached. “Athena?” a voice called out. A quiet voice. A woman’s voice.
“Athena!” someone cried again, louder this time.
I stood up, pulling Athena with me. “You good?” I smoothed her hair down. The effort to make her look put-together was mostly in vain, but I had to try.
No, she was absolutely not fucking good. But she nodded anyway.
Because she, too, knew how dangerous it would be if she were discovered falling apart.
“Good girl.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. And I lingered like that. For too fucking long. But hell, maybe she needed it. Maybe I needed it.
Then I turned and ripped that steel door open.
Florence jumped when she saw me, slapping a hand over her chest. “Christ,” she gasped. “You scared me.”
“What do you want?”
“Is Athena with you?”
I didn’t answer.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course she is,” she muttered. “The ship is docked again. Director sent a few of us to look for you. She’d like to speak with Athena.” She glanced over my shoulder, eyes narrowing—surely on Athena. “Alone.”